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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105514">Writing Prompts #3</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenon_Zaria/pseuds/Zenon_Zaria'>Zenon_Zaria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writing and Dialogue Prompts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Discord Murder Party (Podcast), Undertale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#ATOTA, #CoreIssues, #Dialogue Prompts, #Errortale, #Maya N, #angst, #undertale, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:10:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenon_Zaria/pseuds/Zenon_Zaria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Again, if you're here because of the DMP tag, it's because the Evergreens and their story are based off an RP that's based off DMP.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxwell x Maria, Zenon x John</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writing and Dialogue Prompts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968682</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Writing Prompts #3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I already had a bad enough day as it was. Getting stuck in traffic caused me to get to work late, then after getting to work late I almost got yelled at by my boss because they didn’t have coffee this morning, and then to top it all off, I spilled Papyrus’ “spaghetti cake” all over me. It didn’t help that tomato sauce was already really hard to get out of fur. Especially fur that’s whiter than snow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, all I wanted to do was take a nice hot bubble bath and go to sleep, but the minute I walked into my home, I knew I wasn’t alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a light on in my kitchen that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I turned off before I left for work. There were papers strewn all over my coffee table, and...newspaper clippings? I know I should have gone into my kitchen and seen who was in there, but I always had a childish curiosity about me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I placed my briefcase on the floor, the noises in the kitchen fading as I read the articles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Five dead, two injured in brutal attack in local supermarket.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Witnesses say that the suspect was a woman of Asian descent wearing blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and wore black and white running shoes. All cameras that would have captured her face had data mysteriously deleted and there is no way to recover any of the memory.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking at the other articles, they all had the same story, but not all of them were in a language I could understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Swedish, Chinese (or was it Japanese?), even...wait...WingDings? Why would there be WingDings in a newspaper article? It didn’t make any sense to me. Why were these in my house?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thoughts were swimming through my head and I almost didn’t hear the soft paps against the carpet behind me. Almost immediately, I dropped the articles and turned to face the intruder, red-hot flames already shooting in my palms. But the person I faced wasn’t at all someone I expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, we froze, looking over the other in surprised shock and fear. I didn’t recognize her at first because it’s been so long. Oh so long… The twinkle in her eyes had died out and her once joyous and young face seemed old, tired almost. She seemed to have lost weight and cut her hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything about her wasn’t what I thought she’d look like if we ever met again. And more than anything, she looked scared. Like a great terror was filling in her very being, her very soul…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that moment we stood, nothing changed. The fire in my hands crackled and we stared at each other. Her with fear and me with confusion. But the most absurd thing happened: she laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It started out as a slow chuckle, then grew into a joyous laughter, almost manic as tears of mirth streamed down her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fires in my hands died as I stepped back from...fear? Confusion? Hesitation? I...I don’t know anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But after a few minutes of her laughing and my emotions slowly ranging from everything in spectrum, she slowly stood and, wiping a few tears off her face, looked me in the eyes and spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So...ya gonna kill me now?” Obviously I was taken aback by this, not expecting </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things to be the first words spoken to me after… “28 years. It’s been that long.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N…” I cleared my throat, not trusting myself to speak. “No… It hasn’t-it can’t have been that long, has it?” She shrugged and held a spot on her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You moved on.” She said simply, tightening her self hug. “Most everyone did.” A silence passed through us and she suddenly backed up and looked at me with distrust and fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you just standing there? Didn’t you make a promise? Didn’t you say you would kill me the minute I came around again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why would you care?” I asked, a sudden shock and coldness taking over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know, Asriel, maybe it’s the fact that everyone threatened to kill me the minute I showed my face around any monster again.” Gods...that sarcastic tone never failed to make itself shown. “And I guess it doesn’t matter anyway…” She stepped closer to me and I could smell something off in the room. “Whether ya kill me or not.” She was getting closer and the smell was stronger. What was that? Was that...iron?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because, Asriel...I’m dying.” She got right up to me and there was a sort of pained smile to her face as she removed her hand from her side. Blood. I was smelling blood. And from the looks of it it was a bullet wound, not a stab wound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What-what angle was this even shot at? Did it-” She interrupted me by collapsing to her knees and bracing the pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Straight in through the side as I was running. Aimed for my head but I jumped to get over some stuff and it hit me in the wrong place. Still gonna do its job, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without even thinking, I rushed forward and started healing her, not paying any mind to the fact that we haven’t seen each other for almost 30 years, and that 30 years was filled with hatred and anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you even know I lived here?” I asked as I laid her down and started taking the bullet out of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t…” Her tone was faraway and breathy, as if she was barely there. “I just chose a house that looked empty. I was in the city hoping the magic overuse would throw whoever off my trail but they found me anyway and got so close to killing me this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that why the articles are on my table?” A soft green glow enveloped my hands and her wound started healing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm…” Was all she could manage before she passed out. Of all the days for things to go downhill...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>9/17/19</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Memories, memories, memories…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You know, the type of memories where they just swim through your head and no matter what you do you can’t shake them. That type of memory. Except this was a memory that hit me hard. Because it’s a memory of grief, a memory of loss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You see...I loved once. I loved first. So did Maxwell. And we both lost them. We lost our best friends, and our lovers. My best friend? Maria Yepez. Smartest scientist in the entire lab and a giggly girl who could and would turn serious in the same sentence. Smart, beautiful...she captured the attention of stone-faced Maxwell Evergreen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But...we were bombed. Explosions, blood, fire everywhere… Maria loved the gas department and of course was in there when we were hit. But that’s not where she met her end. There was a second explosion near the agriculture department...Maxwell’s department. She and Maxwell tried to meet up with William and I. And John tried to get in. He was outside...But...we’ll get to him in a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I saw Maria rush in through the hallway and ran to meet her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the bomb hit. She barely made it through the door when the ceiling collapsed around her. She was never the muscular type. Her parents focused most of her genetic enhancements on her brain. You’d be surprised with what they put into her. But as a price, she wasn’t really physically fit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scrawny, weak, pretty sure she had anaemia but never said anything, maybe a bone disorder too. But, nonetheless, that ceiling caved in on her and she was...well...close to gone. I was the closest and yelled back for William to hold Maxwell back, lest he do something reckless. But I cleared the rubble off her body and held her in my arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood… Gods there was so much blood. And I knew it was hers, too. Because I was bruised, not bleeding. But Maria… She looked scared, terrified even. She didn’t want to go. I held back my tears and told her it was going to be alright. She just had to hold on until the air raid stopped and we’d get her to a chamber. She nodded and said she felt tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did everything I could to keep her awake, </span>
  <em>
    <span>begged</span>
  </em>
  <span> her to keep her eyes open and to focus on me. But she closed her beautiful honey-brown eyes and, well, she never opened them again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was how I lost my best friend and how my brother lost his girlfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxwell’s best friend… John. John Carsosai. He, well, he was a soldier. Gods he was the best man I’ve ever met. Really, I’m not gonna lie, every single lady in the compound wanted a man like him. In fact, they wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Whenever he and the other soldiers came around for their routine check ups and supply drop, every woman would do everything in their power to get his focus on them even if it was just for a few minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still being honest here, it kind of...I dunno, annoyed? disgusted? - One of those things - but it gave me a strong emotion whenever he and the other soldiers came around and distracted basically everyone at the workplace. The ladies couldn’t do the work because they were ogling over the soldiers, the men couldn’t do the work because they were trying to get the ladies’ attention, and the only time any work was done those days was when one of us had to do the check up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usually the men checked up on the soldiers because the female soldiers went to a different compound (yes, believe it or not, because of WWIII, women were allowed to fight alongside men. It probably</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>contributed to our lack of fertile people at the time seeing as most everybody that wasn’t a soldier was genetically enhanced or experimented on so they would be smarter). But they always saved the “fan favorites” for the women to check up on. As far as I have heard, nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> serious has gone on when the girl checks up on the boy. But, after all, it is only what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve</span>
  </em>
  <span> heard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anyway, to ensure that each time it was someone different and that fights wouldn’t break loose, every single woman’s name went into a beaker. And every week the three “fan favorites” (John, some guy named Riley, and another guy named Samson) would be saved for the women. Each of them would reach their hand in the beaker and draw a name. Whatever name they picked was the “lucky” woman who would do their routinely check-up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John was usually last to go because of dramatics, but he would always make a show of it. It annoyed me more than anything because I wasn’t interested </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> I knew for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fact</span>
  </em>
  <span> that my name only had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of ninety chance to get chosen. Why do I know this? Because every single woman wanted him and would pay quite a bit to ensure they would be the one. And we only had about twenty-five single girls in the compound, about thirty-seven girls in total.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But anyway, the moment of truth came. He walked up to the beaker and picked it up. He flashed a flirty and slightly provocative smile, complete of course, with charming look and a wink. John reached into that beaker and shuffled around in it, then grabbed a name. The girls swooned and I was picking my nails, waiting for Brenda Wilson to get picked for the seventh (I think?) week in a row.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course, that’s not what happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxwell was off to the side, snickering at the swooning girls and me, the annoyed and bored scientist. He was good friends with John and laughed at him whenever he made a show out of this. But his laughter soon faded when John unfolded the paper and read the name. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> name that had a literal </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny</span>
  </em>
  <span> chance of being picked, got picked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh...Zenon...Evergreen…?” He said my name incorrectly and with so much uncertainty. He literally looked at Maxwell. “Max, ya got a sister? Or a cousin or something who works here?” Maxwell looked both shocked and ready to punch John right in the throat. In fact, he was close to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuya marched straight up to John and tore the paper from his hands and read it. You’d think I’d be nervous and shy about being picked by this so-called “amazing” man and felt “lucky,” but I was far from it. My fists were clenched and I was scowling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In fact, I was ready to punch any of the ladies that were starting to crowd around me, and it looked like they were about to do the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all people get picked?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tramp</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Zenon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t deserve him. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All I did was grit my teeth and moved away from them, trying my hardest to not punch any of them. My strength can be deadly and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t want to knock any of them out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm from the side and pulled me away from the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not happy about this either but we just gotta get this over with before a fight breaks out.” Maxwell was pulling both John and I away from the angry crowd of single women and thrust a clipboard into my hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait a minute,” I spoke out, planting my feet before Maxwell pushed John and I into a check-up room, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing this. I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I was chosen, I’m not going to be the so-called ‘lucky one’ and check up on the ‘fan favorite.’” John looked at me with a sort of respect and amazement, while Maxwell just looked tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’d rather have anyone but my kid sister check up on this idiot,” I took note that John smiled at being called an idiot, “but if we choose someone else another fight will break out and probably be worse because Brenda’s been bribing the people in charge of it. So just,” he made a face as if he was searching for the right words to say, “suck it up this week and we’ll get it fixed by next week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I scowled and adjusted my lab coat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I said venomously, “But if anyone comes after me for checking up on this moron, I will not hesitate to knock them out.” My brother put his hands up and looked back through the hallway at the growing noises of anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, fine, whatever. Just,” he pulled me into a hug, “be safe.” He released me and gave the deadliest look to John. “Try anything and you will not live to see the next day.” John actually looked intimidated at Maxwell as </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>he pivoted on his heel, lab coat billowing around him, and marched into the room of angry singles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I, on the other hand, growled and turned fiercely at John.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get in.” I snarled at him, pointing into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had an almost amused face as he walked in and made a show of sitting on the bed. I scowled and looked at the clipboard, then slammed the door behind me. I, of all godforsaken people, was not up for this. I looked at the clipboard and rolled up my sleeves, watching to make sure he wouldn’t try anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After about a minute of me blatantly making a show of ignoring him, he gave up and showed the same amount of disinterest and disgust back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My question is why your name was even on there when you didn’t want to be here, Zenon.” I didn’t answer him and just continued looking at the clipboard, searching for anything that I could use against him. I didn’t know if the reports were biased or not, but there was nothing wrong with this guy. He was mentally capable and could probably become a bright scientist if he learned enough. Physically, he was muscular (that was obvious enough that I could see) and had no signs of bone or muscle disease.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My thoughts were interrupted by his stupid voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So...why was your name in there?” I flipped the paper on front and looked at the description on the second paper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They want to make it fair because the minute you guys start choosing, everything goes insane. The so called ‘hot guys’ that come here every week for check up also, from what I’ve heard, entertain the girls. I’m single, yes, but so are the other twenty-four out of thirty-seven,” I raised an eyebrow as I read some notes from the previous reporter (Brenda, who else?), “girls here. But I’ve no care for love or romance or what have you. I really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> couldn’t care less. They put every single lady’s name in there to keep it fair but it’s not fair because everyone bribes my brother and the others anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re just toys to you guys. You know? I see how you look at every girl. You treat it as if it’s a game. Flirting with all these girls, and all that. You’re muscle, yes, but that’s it. We’re the brains and you’re the brawns. It’s just a shame a useless hunk of meat such as yourself keeps on distracting the female workers here every Monday.” He was silent after I finished and I smirked, feeling satisfied that I put him in his place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds like you’re jealous of those girls.” He said in a low voice, so close to being a drawl. He was teasing me, I knew it. Why I let it get to me, I don’t know, but I froze. “Obviously you want to be them, don’t you? You want to be in the same position as them. Having fun with us, the ‘hot boys,’ as you said. You want to feel like a schoolgirl giggling at her highschool crush, right?” By this point I was stone-faced and pretending to ignore him, but it took everything in me to not show he was getting to me. “You want what they have, I can already tell. You want to be able to get what they do and I can already tell you now, I can give you what they-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I lost it. Not gonna lie. I dropped the clipboard and took out my dagger, immediately holding the tip right against his Adam’s Apple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was silent for a few moments. Me in anger and him out of shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say one more word and I will not hesitate to dig this knife straight through your throat.” He gulped and the dagger tip moved with his apple. “I don’t care about the rules if you’re going to insult me. Romance is stupid, you’re stupid, and if you die by my hand it won’t be my fault. Are we clear?” He gulped one last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And I thought that was that. But it wasn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next week, the men came together and the choosing came. Instead of picking from the beaker, John whispered something to Xander (Xander Packer, nerd). Xander looked surprised when John looked back at the crowd; it almost looked like he was...blushing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nonetheless, everyone saw this happening and murmurs went through the crowd. I was staying towards the back lest the women tried to beat me up because of the week before. To be honest, I didn’t really care for this and while everyone was paying attention to John, Xander, and now Maxwell, I managed to slip out of the room and into the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, I was there for just a moment when I heard noises of an angry female crowd from the main room and made a “tch” noise, smirking because it wasn’t me. It was probably Brenda...again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, I was wrong. I was very wrong. Maxwell and John caught up to me and Maxwell was fuming, his dagger already out and pointing at John.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what the (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>) you’re thinking, John, but if you’re serious then we’re gonna have a nice talk here in a few.” I raised my eyebrow and John backed away from the muscular man next to him holding a dagger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen man, she’s the only one who won’t try anything when I get checked up. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t mind doin’ all that stuff with the other girls, but she’s the only one who actually threatened me if I didn’t stop.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. “I...can see how you guys are related, come to think of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxwell’s eye twitched and I was debating on getting my own dagger out, but Maxwell, almost hesitantly, placed the dagger back into its sheath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try anything, I will know and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John nodded and Maxwell sighed, then handed me a clipboard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...If he doesn’t do anything, I will.” I told John, choosing not to argue. After all, I have my dagger and a few other tricks up my sleeves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I found out later that he liked me. Every single girl treated him like a god whenever he walked in, practically begging him for anything, even the ladies that were taken would stop and ogle at him. But me? He had no idea who I was because I did the exact opposite of it. I couldn’t care less for him, and saw him as more of a nuisance than anything. Apparently, I was also the first girl to threaten him with his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, yes, I fell for him back. How? It...wasn’t because of his charm or because of his looks. Honestly, he was a really cool guy. He was nice when he wasn’t being flirty, and there was a charm to me in the way he spoke. We dated for five years, promising the other that if we won the war, we’d try and start a family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, well… He and I were at one of the very few places that was deemed “safe,” at the time. An abandoned segment near Fallon that surprisingly wasn’t full of radiation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were snipers and...and...Well...he’s dead. He’s dead because of me...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>9/24/19</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I was tired, you know? Tired of running and hiding and running some more. I’ve been off the charts for years, trying anything within my power to ensure that I’d live. But what did it matter if I had nothing to live for?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sucked in a deep breath and ducked around the corner, coming face to face with Church...and Church’s gun. It wasn’t a foam gun, it was a normal everyday gun. The type with bullets. It was pressed right against my forehead and I took a look at her and, well, I could have reacted, but I chose not to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took a deep breath, she took a deep breath, and my mind went blank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I opened my eyes again and I was back to this morning. My room. My...</span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> home. Running, and hiding, and running, and hiding… Back in my little house near the edge of the universe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As I got out of bed, I sighed, already knowing how this day would turn out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’d go brush my teeth, then I’d take a shower, make breakfast, head out for the day and immediately get shot at the minute I walk down the street to the bowling alley.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’d have to leave the universe and get chased all throughout the Multiverse, have a run-in with Error in the Void, then get trapped in a world of ruins and old deserted buildings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’ll hide, and run, and hide, and run some more, then I’ll eventually come face-to-face with Church and my death is inevitable. Well, maybe not this time around, but eventually, I will die. And then I’ll die again. And again. And again. I’ll die for as many times as it takes until this world stops restarting and everything’s back to how it is...maybe that involves me dead, maybe that involves me alive, who knows? Who knows…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nonetheless, morning routine finished, bag in hand, I set out for the day. As I suspected, I got about half a block down before a gun went off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bullet shot past my head and lodged itself into the house behind me. Sighing, I fell back into an already open rift to the Void.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falling, falling, falling some more… Falling through the Multiverse usually had a calming effect on me, except I hadn’t used magic in a long time and this was draining me. To be honest, I was tired of this cat and mouse game. So I kept on falling. And falling. And falling. I looked straight up as the rift I created closed and left blackness. Well, not entire blackness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Void that contained the Multiverse was beautiful. Stars of any color imaginable scattered throughout this empty black space. Everything about this place was calming and quiet. No noise, no bright lights (which seemed impossible with all the stars around), no nothing. Just peace and </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>quiet. To be honest, I was just waiting for Error to wrap his strings around me and toss me into a pillar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which happened sooner than expected. My soul, as broken and ugly as it was, seemed to snap out of my body. And in that millisecond, blue string wrapped around my soul. They stung as they wrapped around it and the same searing pain flowed into my veins like some sort of icy-hot liquid. I shuddered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The strings attached to my soul drew me up and swung me around. I didn’t react as I was swung through universe to universe, place to place, Underground to Underground, before I was smashed into a pillar in the same ruined universe from last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Last time, I got up and ran, not even waiting to see what would happen. But, then again, last time I didn’t hit the pillar head on with my head. So there I was, face-down on the ground, everything seeming so slow in time, and my body aching. There I was, tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of being alive. So I stayed there, breathing heavily, numbing the pain, and just waiting for my inevitable death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, i didn’t have to wait long. the world around me suddenly turned upside down and before i knew it, i was staring face to face with an angry church. and cross. and bones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>church was the one holding me up. maybe i was light, maybe i wasnt. it was getting harder and harder to tell these days. i didnt eat often, nor did i exercise much. eh, who knows? who even cares… all i know is that i was breathing heavily, blood was dripping down the side of my head, and the world seemed like it was in a haze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>her gun was in her hand, i just knew it was. i didnt need to see her hand to know it was there. why? because it was there last time. so why wouldnt it be there this time? ah well. didnt matter anyway. her hand lifted, but instead of it being her who held the gun against me, i fell through a rift.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>i was falling, and falling, and falling… i was falling for a long time. then more strings were attached to me. the same blue one’s from before, except they didnt hurt this time. they were gentle, almost caring as they gently tugged me through the void.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>this lasted for about a minute before a rift opened and bones (you know, the character bones) popped out of it, severing the ropes that held onto me, flipped off the void around us, then pulled me through another rift.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>we crash landed on a beach. the salty air permeated my senses and cleared my head. this wasnt the first time id die on a beach, and i could tell it wouldnt be the last. i was on my side and bones wasnt close enough to me that i could feel him, but i could hear him groaning somewhere near me. i stiffly moved up, coincidentally at the same time bones moved up. he held his skull for a bit and for a moment, he looked at me, and i looked at him, and i saw the stunned look fade to anger and hatred. almost clumsily, he got out his gun and pointed it at me, trigger finger ready, gun already cocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>i stared at him for a moment, not moving or showing expression. well, im pretty sure it was evident that i was tired, oh so tired…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>neither of us spoke for the first few minutes. it was just a stare off between him, and me, him, and me… his breathing was hard and labored, as if he was ready to strike at any moment. in, out, in, out, and out, and out. he was trying to calm himself. finally, i spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“youre getting a little slow there, bones.” he stared at me with hatred and his breathing labored again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he spat at me, holding the gun steadier with both hands, aiming it more at me as if he had nothing else to hold onto. “You almost took everything from me, so many times in this life. It’s a wonder why </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of us let you live this long.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>i could feel the anger rolling off him in bursts, but there was something else i felt...i could’ve sworn. maybe it was nothing, but something inside me opened. not snapped, opened. a door that i’ve kept closed for so long. Open. I looked at him and felt the tired wash over me once more. because, for the first time in so long, I gave up. I gave up fully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at me, and I looked at him, and I took a deep breath and said, “Do it. It’s what we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it? So go on. Pull the trigger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And in that moment, he stared at me, I stared at him. His breathing 112was erratic and gasping, mine was calm and accepting. I took a deep breath, making almost no noise, and he took a deep breath, his rib cage rattling, and he steadied himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We looked each other in the eyes and he...yelled (made a loud noise of frustration?) and threw the gun aside. He made another screaming noise and put his skull in his boney hands, seemingly in an internal battle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the (</span>
  <em>
    <span>bleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>)?!” He yelled into his hands. “Why doesn’t this feel right?!” Of course, I was shocked by this and jumped back slightly. “We found you by chance and if this were any other day, I would not have cared and been all for shooting you point-blank.” He removed his skull from his bony hands and looked at me, “but I’ve been trying so hard all day to convince myself that this is right, that you deserve this. But-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But? There is no ‘but.’” I was surprised with what was coming out of my mouth. Did I want to die this bad? “Don’t you get it, Bones?” A sudden burst of strength coursed through me and I stood straight up, turning my face towards the heavens and spreading my arms towards the sky. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>None</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this is real!!! </span>
  <em>
    <span>None of it!!!</span>
  </em>
  <span> No matter what happens, whether I die or live, whether the entire (</span>
  <em>
    <span>BLEEPING</span>
  </em>
  <span>) universe as we know it is destroyed, the world, the universe, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span>thing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span>one </span>
  <em>
    <span>WILL BE REDONE. NOTHING IS EVER GOING TO CHANGE</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I swung towards him, feeling my joints pop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This. Isn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Real</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> We weren’t here. We weren’t anywhere.” Now it was his turn to jump back. Fear, apprehension, maybe something else, but his hand found his gun and held it with hesitance. The gun was still on the sand, but he was holding onto it loosely, watching me with fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you get it, Bones? </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOTHING</span>
  </em>
  <span> matters anymore. Whether I live or die, whether I die by my own hand or by anyone else’s, nothing will matter and nothing will change. It’s an ever moving circle of goal, restart, death, restart, death, death, and death.” I was slowly approaching him and he started to crawl back. “So who cares anymore what’s ‘right’ and what’s ‘wrong?’” I couldn’t stop myself because, after all, what did it really matter? Bones was almost terrified, probably on a fight or flight response. But he was watching me. Inspecting my every move as I spoke and thinking, preparing for anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then I had an idea: If he kills me now, the world would restart itself and I could have another shot. Heh. Another shot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, I faked an insane look and smiled maliciously at him. “And if nothing matters, Bones...who’s to say I won’t just kill you now?” The hand holding the gun shook. “You’re here. Alone with the most dangerous, most powerful, most insane magic-user in the entire Multiverse.” The hand tightened. “One flick of my hand,” the arm tensed, “one snap of my fingers,” his breathing laboured, “one flash of my eye,” he blinked, “and you’d be dead in an instant.” I snapped, he moved, and before I knew it, pain was shooting </span>
  <span>through my right kneecap. I fell back and grit my teeth at the searing pain in my leg.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So I lay there, life flashing before my eyes. You’d think I’d think of all the sad stuff and how my life went downhill after a stupid mistake, but no. I thought about everything in my life. From the thirteen years I spent with my family, to the time I fell Underground, for when we resurfaced, to now and everything in between. It may have been just a kneecap that was shot, but you try being shot in the kneecap after decades of feeling no pain and </span>
  <em>
    <span>THEN</span>
  </em>
  <span> come talk to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeez, I remember when I was younger and I used to get shot at least once a week, usually three times a week. Of course though, they didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>half</span>
  </em>
  <span> of what I went through the past...32? 28? One of those two. Anyway, nobody knew what I went through in the past three-ish decades, so of course, they wouldn’t understand what I was feeling. But it wasn’t really painful. Or maybe the adrenaline that was rushing through my system numbed it. But I laughed, and laughed, and laughed… It was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> funny to me for some reason. Or maybe I was just hysterical from the pain and shock. Something like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My laughing was interrupted by a screaming. Despite the pain in my kneecap, I stood. Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stand. The minute I was up on my feet again, my right leg gave out and I fell forward. Not before I saw Bones screaming and holding his skull in his hands, eyes glowing wildly. That’s right. I said “eyes.” From what I could see on my position on the floor, Bones was done screaming, but seemed to be trembling, jerking wildly in what I can only assume was pain. His expressions were shifting wildly and he didn’t look like he enjoyed this at all. Pleasure, pain, happy, sad, anger, regret, guilt, guilt, sad, guilt, regret, regret, regret, regret…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His expression switching stopped and he fell to his knees, staring down at the sand as if it was nothing. I tried to move towards him, but the sand getting into my knee stung and I stayed still. It hurt to crane my neck up at him, so I just faced the sand, closing my eyes and focusing on the noises around me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounded peaceful...you know? The crashing of the waves… In, out, in, out… It was...relaxing almost. The pain in my knee was subsiding, and then I realized my head was being moved and I was being turned over. I opened my eyes, slowly as to let the sand fall out, and saw everything around me. The </span>
  <span>bright, blessed day circling the shadowed skull of Bones. His one lit eye was looking at me with guilt and a warmth was spreading through my body, mainly centered around me knee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I’m sorry…” He said in a voice quieter than you’d think. “I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve this.” I was confused, but he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. “You didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t try to kill the kids. You didn’t try to kill us. But we… we tried to kill you. And we killed you. And killed you. And killed you…” The warmth stopped spreading and my knee didn’t hurt anymore. Bones looked at me one last time and hugged me. Hugged me close to him, but gently, as if he was afraid that I’d shatter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I remember. How long has this been going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And I scoffed and hugged him back. “Glad to have you back, Bones. And...this has been going on for a lot longer than you would have thought…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>10/14/19</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I stared numbly at my hands as Maya worked around me. Loading and unloading various guns, changing the cartridges, cleaning the barrels, even making sure that the magic run guns were loading-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I jumped as the gun went off over my head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the f-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Language,” she cut me off sharply, eyeing me as she was looking over her guns once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I was gonna say ‘flip,’ actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmph.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched her, clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to feel anything but cold. It was only one person. Only one. But the cold. Gods the cold was spreading through me, making me numb. And my hands… They were worse there. These hands held the gun. These fingers pulled the trigger. This person aimed and shot. It was self defense, but I haven’t killed anyone. No one. Not even during missions for the Foundation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I clenched my hands once more and looked up, not realizing my gaze shifted from Maya to my hands. She was turned away from me, across the room. It looked like she was loading guns, choosing certain ones and putting them into her holsters. Wow. That...that was a lot of holsters. And it occurred to me then how many people she went after, not showing any sign of anything. How did she-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can feel you staring at me all the way over there. Any reason specifically, Brandon?” I shivered, both from the cold and from anger, I guess. This wasn’t anything new, her knowing I was watching her without her being able to see me, I mean. But I stood, quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you feel guilty?! Like, at all?!?!” I basically yelled. She just continued to check, clean, load, and work with her guns, seemingly unfazed by me at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope.” This shocked me. Maya? Not being guilty for a death? Multiple deaths at that too. “I don’t have time to be guilty. And neither do you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was hysterical at this. She was acting as if the deaths of so many people, innocent or not, meant nothing. “What do you mean you don’t have time to be guilty?!?! And I don’t?!?! What happened to y-,” almost immediately, she whipped around and a throwing knife flew past my right ear, so close that I could hear the sound of the blade cutting through the air. It stuck in the wall behind me and I froze, staring at her in fear and apprehension.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked like a mixture of apathetic, anger, and dead inside. And, after a minute of silence, she finally spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What ‘happened’ to me?” Maya squinted and started walking towards me. “Why don’t you ask your mom? Or your dad? Or your Uncle Cross? Oh! Maybe even Grandma Toriel or even Aunty Undyne!” With each name she took a step; closer and closer until she was right in my face. “Hm?” Maya smiled the sort of smile where you’re angry and smiling out of anger, trying to make your point and not blow off on the person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you ask your family? The same family that shunned me and cast me aside? The same family that loved me up until everyone thought I tried to kill them?” She took a step away from me and threw out her arms, revealing their bareness as she gestured to the room around us. Guns and all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the product of madness, Brandon. Anger, insanity, and pure madness.” She stared me down and lowered her arms. “So frankly, I couldn’t care </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> who dies or who lives at this point.” Her tone had an iciness to it that I’ve never heard before. “And with how this world means nothing, I don’t think it matters what </span>
  <em>
    <span>DOES</span>
  </em>
  <span> or does </span>
  <b>
    <em>not</em>
  </b>
  <span> happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>10/22/19</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There!” Azzie tightened the magic-locking handcuffs around my wrists and ankles, and the gag around my mouth, before locking the cell and turning around to file the report. “Now you can’t escape nor will you bother me with your incessant talking.” He worked in silent peace as I rolled my eyes. I looked around the cell. High tech, obviously. Laser-screen-forcefield thing in front of me, fluorescent white cell around me, a bed (hovering over the floor because they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> high tech), and a toilet and sink behind a wall. Azzie didn’t expect me to be here that long, so it didn’t matter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I smiled through my gag and raised my hand to the screen that closed off the cell and used a bit of magic to enhance the heat surrounding the handcuffs, not so much that Azzie would feel it, but enough that would work to melt the handcuff link… Well, that was what was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to happen. I overestimated the heat of the screen and was disappointed to feel a soothing warmth; not a healing warmth, just a normal warmth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sighed internally and tried to dig into my jean pockets. I had a bobby pin or two in there, and they would work just fine. Especially so since Azzie was turned away from me. With difficulty, I got the bobby pins out of my pocket and bent one, placing it into the keyhole. With the other, I successfully managed to get into the keyhole, wiggle it around, and unlocked the magic cancelling handcuffs around my wrists. Smiling to myself, I cast a glance at Azzie and was relieved to see that he was still working on that report, writing furiously as the anger rolled off him in sheets. I rolled my eyes then unlocked the cuffs around my ankles, finally removing the gag from my mouth when I was finished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snarled from where he was positioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still can’t believe we even thought to trust you in the first place.” Then under his breath, “Dirty good for nothin’...” and his voice trailed off into obvious angry muttering as he filed the report.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched him for a few minutes, taking in his form, the room around me (what I could see of it, anyway), and the feelings in my body. My magic wasn’t hindered, even in the cuffs, but it felt more free even without anything. I took a deep breath through my nose, and quietly let it out through my mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <span>“...but you just </span>
    <em>
      <span>HAD</span>
    </em>
    <span> to be important to the Multiverse,” Azzie exclaimed with exasperation, “But does anyone think that maybe you’re dangerous? No! Almost everybody thinks that the most powerful ones are </span>
  </b>
  <span>‘good’ just because they’re on our side! And then </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of a sudden, some of the best people and agents in the Foundation die by your hand!” He sighed, aggravated, and his writing became louder and more scribbled (I couldn’t see but I could tell just by how he was writing so hard and so fast).</span>
</p>
<p><span>Nonetheless, I watched him for a moment more, then crossed my arms and spoke.</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Don’t you ever get tired of being angry all the time?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Azzie paused for a moment, clearly not expecting me to speak, then whipped around and stared at me with a mixture of anger and shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly,” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as I spoke, “you’re there bein’ happy an’ all that, forgettin’ about all the bad, but you’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy, now are ya?” I peered at him through half-lidded eyes, a condescending tone to my voice. “There’s that overwhelming feeling of pure anger and hatred in your gut, right?” Of course I’d known this. It’s not like he’s been one of the first Asriels to kill me in, what, over 386 </span>
  <span>RESTARTS</span>
  <span>? “Eh, don’t matter much anymore. ‘S all the same to me at this point, you know?” I shrugged and stopped talking to see if he would respond. Unsurprisingly, he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What,” literally one word, and I knew he was speaking carefully, “do you mean?” I smirked and let out a little breath of a laugh, you know the type, when you exhale shortly and quickly from your nose. Yeah. That. I did that thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It matters none anyway. Whether you remember or not, it’s all gonna be the same in the end. Who knows?” I started walking toward him, taking small and slow steps to be dramatic (which was harder than you’d think considering the size of the cell). “You may not remember anything, but I do. I remember everything. I remember all the times you killed me,” his breathing shifted and he narrowed his eyes, “all the times Bones killed me… Church, Cross, everyone... “ I shrugged and leaned against the wall next to the edge of the screen. “Myself even.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you playing at?” He asked with caution, hands twitching as he watched me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrugged again in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m playing at nothing. All of this just ends up the same. I find the goal that needs to be reached, and I achieve it. I faint, maybe I go to bed, and I wake up again in a bed, somewhere entirely new...usually. Sometimes, </span>
  <span>it’s just a variation of what just happened.” He watched me as I looked at the ceiling, remembering. “This is the...third time we’ve done this in a row…? I think?” I shrugged again and looked back to him. “Eh. Doesn’t matter anymore, now does it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ask you, once again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you saying?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” A tiny flicker of fire danced in his eyes and travelled to his fingertips, sparking out of his claws.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I smirked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t remember so I don’t really know if it matters, but I’ll explain anyway. Besides,” I checked my watch, “I think we got time. The last time we did this, I broke out,” I checked my watch again, “three minutes ago and ran the full fledge of the compound in about five minutes. After that, you burned me to death because I was panicked and my magic was somehow locked,” I grimaced as I remembered the feeling of being burned. “Anyway, the one before that, I was depressed and just waiting for death or else, and ended up not dying, but I did accidentally get Phy to snap at me.” I shrugged. “So. Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I started pacing around as I retold him what’s been going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, let’s see here. Well, I guess the easiest place to start is the beginning. And the beginning is...nothing. As far as I’m concerned. The first time we went through all of this, I got into a car accident in Sweden in the year 2045. Gaster was there that day because of the promise I made back in 2033 - you know, the year all of this started - and was making sure that I kept to it. Yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah, he found out that I wasn’t lying when I tried to tell the truth and decided that he would forgive me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, because of this, he saw that I was basically dead from that accident, but not. I was severely injured. He got me into a Swedish hospital, somehow convinced them to transfer me to St. Canard of my universe, and I had this elaborate plan to make letters for everyone I know and kept a note on me at all times in case I was murdered or something, but everyone got them and then everyone showed up to my hospital room (I was comatose, by the way. Paralyzed-but-conscious.) in some weird illusion magic so the others wouldn’t know that was them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fear overcame me and my heart beat itself out. After a doctor and nurse using defibrillators and the kids using magic to spark through me, I ended up living and pretended to forget everything. Then about a day later, </span>
  <span>I had a nightmare and panicked and tried to jump off my balcony after everyone forgave me, and then thought everyone was going to kill me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I teleported into The Underground and ran like heck. Sprained my ankle, and then teleported to The Forgotten Cake. Finally, everyone just agreed to start anew.” I waved off his incredulous look and continued pacing as I told my story.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eventually, we came upon a time where I again tried to kill myself by jumping off a cliff, but Gaster saved me by using blue magic. The old fool was panicked and ended up not catching me fast enough, which resulted in me ‘getting knocked on the head,’ as I always loved to put it. Eventually, after a few hundred more times of us going from possibility to possibility, we came upon ‘The Author,’ as I call that personality.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was the exact same story over and over again. Demon builds an army of Charas, kidnaps Red, Orange, Original, Error, their Papyrus-es, 01, and Red’s Frisk and Chara. Usually there would be some variation in it, instead it was the exact same reality over and over again. I panic because everyone is mad at me, trying to kill me, violent and hostile, and all of a sudden, I gain my memories. But, after the fourth one, I started realizing that this was familiar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought it was just deja vu, but it wasn’t. I started being able to predict what would happen when, and eventually, I started losing myself because, as The Author, I didn’t want anything to do with the people who pushed me to suicide. And because of this, I was in an internal battle with myself. The Author refusing to remember anything, but the memories persisting that I needed to know. Until finally, one faithful </span>
  <span>RESTART</span>
  <span>, I just stopped caring. I let myself be led by 01, let the other Sans-es and Papyrus-es berate me and threaten to kill me and I just didn’t care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was when I started getting flashbacks of the past </span>
  <span>RESTARTS</span>
  <span>, and then I remembered the first one. All of a sudden, I was feeling woozy. Original saw this and caught me as I fell, but I was already out cold.” I stopped my pacing and looked him in the eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So now, </span>
  <span>RESTART</span>
  <span> after </span>
  <span>RESTART</span>
  <span>, possibility after possibility, my memories of the past persist. Sometimes I forget long enough to do something stupid, other times I remember fully and wait for the end. But my only question now, Azzie, is if you believe any word that came from my mouth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at me with a mix of fear, apprehension, and confusion. And, after a moment, he shook his head and all of that turned away and became anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re bluffing. None of that has been happening; it would have showed up on our charts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrugged. “Don’t believe me if you would wish.” Again, I checked my watch. “Now, are you gonna kill me? Because it would make all of this a lot quicker and I’ve a feeling I know what’s gonna get you to remember.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kill you?” He seemed very surprised when I asked this. “What?! No!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I clicked my tongue twice. “Well, guess I gotta do it myself.” He stood at this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you’re not.” His authority was returning to his voice, but unfortunately for him, it did not affect me one bit. So, I stared him in the eyes and held out my right hand, summoning about 12 mini Gaster Blasters, all of them charged and aimed at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Watch me.” The Blasters went off at the same time. But in that millisecond, Azzie acted quickly enough that he summoned one of his force fields around me, shielding me from the Blasters’ beams. I snorted and looked at him with a challenge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really think this is gonna stop me?” The forcefield was cracking as I increased the power. “Nice try.” I smiled at him as he looked scared. “See ya in the next run.” The forcefield shattered and the concentrated magic engulfed my body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>12/8/19</b>
</p>
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